Twitter Tweeter
by vlora
Summary: A series of one-shots based on Twitter dialogue. While featuring Puck and Rachel, it's not your traditional Puckleberry. Will keep up with the American screenings, so spoilers.
1. The Bad, Hot Jew

_**A series of one-shots based on particular Twitter quotes. **_

**1.**

**Twitter Tweeter**

The last period of the day had settled in, and all the students seemed to share the same dull, lifeless expressions. In particular was Puck, who was resigned to trying to jump out the window to end the grief that was History. Karma wasn't on his side, though; they were on the ground floor. It has been a double-session, something most students feared in their nightmares. Puck was no exception to this universal truth, though History was particularly horrible due to one vain Jewish girl sitting next to him.

Everyone else in the room had been smart enough (and fast enough) to claim chairs for their friends. Puck had stupidly pointed out that Santana was sitting in the seat next to him when she was clearly seated on his other side already. As he waited for the teacher to come into the class and begin the torture once again, Rachel couldn't help but gush about how excited she was for practice after school.

Due to her unwavering persistence in talking to him, Puck felt trapped. He was now questioning why he was sitting next to Berry in the first place, even though it wasn't by choice. And he honestly wondered how the hell they had started to discuss his love of bacon. There was no link, but that didn't seem to stop Rachel who had started on a tirade of the Jewish kind.

"You're a bad Jew, Noah," Rachel gasped under her breath, her eyes flying wide before narrowing at the mohakwed boy to her right. This was a subtle punctuation mark to her three minute speech about the importance of faith.

"I'm a hot Jew," Puck defended, leaning back in his chair with his arm over the back. He hadn't seen his rabbi since he'd been caught eating bacon. Maybe that was how it started…

"Fine, you're a bad, hot Jew -" Rachel sarcastically agreed, her expression quickly souring as she heard Puck mock-gag at her words. "… I wish that sentence didn't sound as bad as it did."

"I feel like I need to set myself on fire." Puck dismissed with a groan, running his hand down his face. He was actually entertained by the fact she had admitted that he was a hot Jew. It was something he knew, but the fact she confirmed it through sarcasm made his ego inflate just a tad. Santana elbowed him, but he wasn't sure why.

"Okay, have fun being on fire. Make sure you use enough to kill you, seeing as you probably wouldn't want to live through those painful burns..." Rachel dismissed with an implausibly happy tone.

"You're a psycho," Puck half-growled, angry that she wasn't angry. Rachel was _supposed_ to be angry. It's how their little disagreements always worked. She'd be pissed off; he'd be content; they'd stop talking. This was backwards; it wasn't supposed to be this way.

"And you're clearly not on fire, so please stop threatening to do it," Rachel softly shot back.

"My sister would be pissed if I did it," Puck pointed out in the same low tone.

"Mhm. Well. Don't set yourself on fire then. Just find other ways to deal with your issues... Instead of calling me fat or ugly," she punctuated this point with a stern glare, her hand pausing as she dotted the end of the sentence.

"Okay, I'll slushie you," Puck resolved, settling back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"... Noah, please don't slushie me. I had a boy do it yesterday when I was at the supermarket – not cool." Rachel gently sighed, resuming her irreverent notes.

"It's spreading? Hell yes," Puck chuckled. He'd never actually seen Berry being slushied by anyone except himself… but then again, he hadn't really paid much attention to her outside of school prior to joining Glee. She was a nerd.

"No! Not cool. It's actually quite painful. I got syrup in my eye!" Rachel said with unnecessary urgency, her voice resonating through the room a little more than she would have liked. People turned to look at her briefly before dismissing her

"Wouldn't be the first time you've - I won't finish that…" Puck faded off, his eyes pretending to focus on the board before he scribbled some very brief notes.

"I'm sorry, was that a stifled attempt at an ill-placed illicit joke?" Rachel choked her hand flying up to her chest in utterly faked indignation. _She probably loved it, she's that desperate for attention,_ he decided with an assured smile.

"Possibly…" Puck shrugged off the question, propping his head up onto his hand. The teacher glared at them, stifling their conversation for the moment. He continued to grin lazily at Rachel before his eyes shifted to the exposed thigh of a no-name Cheerio he'd screwed a few weeks ago. Puck felt his leg vibrate, a sensation he did not really anticipate (or enjoy). Upon unlocking his phone, the screen revealed that Rachel had sent him an at-message on Twitter. Text messages were so 2006, in case you didn't know.

"_...You're only doing this because Jesse isn't around, aren't you?"_ Rachel attempted to clarify, her face contorting into an expression of mild annoyance.

"_No I'm just bored…xoxo"_

"_We're in class? Pay attention! Take some notes! And don't xoxo me *frown*"_

"_Like I was being serious. Anyway, Santana's next to me and I'm staring at her boobs! I refuse to take notes"_ Puck smirked, knowing the stupid and entirely fake attempt at being nice would piss her off more than anything. He was finally getting the reaction he wanted from her. She seemed noticeably frazzled as she crossed between her phone and her notes at an infrequent pace.

"_Stop staring at her chest, and take notes. You need to do well in school to stay on football, don't you? Or is the system corrupt?"_Rachel glared at Puck for a moment, shaking her head. It was unfair the amount of bias he got… she was a star, and she still had to work hard for her grades.

"_But it's a really really awesome chest. And football season's over"_

"_... Then take notes on her chest, I have no idea how to fix your problem of boredom. :/"_

"_She tried to kill me when I wrote on her boobs last time. Chocolate novelty pen :)"_ Puck audibly chuckled as he heard Rachel's minor intake of breath. He was lying, but she didn't need to know that.

"_I didn't mean ON her chest. Why don't you just try to pay attention to the class? It can't be that bad. :("_ Rachel set her phone on her lap and resumed taking notes. It was impossible to keep up with someone who was bored, seeing as he lap vibrated only seconds later.

"_It could be that bad."_

"_... It's like talking to a wall with you."_ Rachel finally tweeted, setting her phone aside for the moment. She was in class, and notes mattered more than whatever Puck had to say in response. Puck simply smirked, knowing he'd pissed her off – he'd won their little verbal (and textual) sparring match for now.

**Credit to puckyeah and rachelisastar on Twitter.**

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	2. Practice Makes Pathetic

_**Set pre-"Dream On".**_

**2.**

**Practice Makes Pathetic**

Despite the usual uproar at the end of each practice, the group had left rather quietly that day. Mercedes and Kurt seemed distracted; Tina and Artie were having a cold shoulder competition with the other; in fact, Rachel hadn't even noticed the others sliding out until she noticed the door wafting shut on its hinge. Glee had disbanded for the evening, leaving Rachel fiddling with the clasp of her bag with Jesse lingering behind her. They were _not_ ready for Regionals, but the others didn't seem to care. No one ever cared that they sucked; no one except Rachel (and perhaps Jesse and Mr. Schuester).

"You can go ahead, Jesse," Rachel softly suggested across her shoulder, her eyes glancing over Jesse's face, "I was thinking of practicing some more anyway."

"Trying to send me away so you can steal the spotlight?" Jesse rolled his eyes. He stepped forward to hug the considerably smaller girl from behind. After a moment of their silent embrace, Jesse shrugged his arms more firmly around Rachel, a clearly possessive move. She didn't seem to mind. "We should practice together in a more intimate venue; my room; your room; that unlocked janitor's closet. Any of those could work," he slyly pecked her on the cheek, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"And that's the issue – while we'd be _practicing_, I doubt it's the kind I feel I need at the moment," she keenly observed, weaving out from Jesse's grasp. They shared a brief kiss against the piano before Jesse agreed to come pick her up later that evening. She just needed some alone time, and some proper, uninterrupted practice. She worked her best when it was just her, a CD player and her imagination concocted thousands of people sitting in utter anticipation for her impeccable singing voice.

As she began singing her nose twitched, her eyes slamming shut. She sneezed softly, mid-note. She continued to sneeze for a minute or so, clearly reacting so something in the air. Maybe it was Jesse's cologne? She wasn't sure in the least. "I can't stop sneezing. It's frustrating!" she whimpered to herself (as she quietly sneezed once more), "And distracting! How can I practice if I keep sneezing!"

While the question was rhetorical, it was answered by a lone figure at the other side of the room. "Stop breathing?" Puck suggested with a set jaw, his eyes narrowed at the petite brunette (who issued another delicate little sneeze). He was clutching his hoodie in one hand, indicating that he had most likely left it behind.

"I would just pass out," Rachel argued back. "And yes, I know what you meant. Are you still mad at me for being _mean_?" Rachel briefly recalled the moment she called Puck a few names that were probably best left unmentioned. It sparked from his unintelligent move of making fun of her song choice for their practice session. Another sneeze racked her frame.

"No, I'm mad at you for being a raging bitch. With gross hair and bad breath," Puck sarcastically corrected her, "seriously, it's fuckin' bad."

"Of course you're not mad with such mature criticisms. Why was I even worrying," Rachel dismissed with an unimpressed expression, clutching her music sheets in her hands carefully.

"At the very least, you're a raging bitch. You lie, you manipulate and you're just kind of a bitch, Rachel," Puck pointed out, tugging the hoodie over his head. He wandered across to the piano, idly prodding the keys as he listened to her sounds of indignation.

"You got your best friend's girlfriend pregnant and then lied about it for months," Rachel pointed out in an even tone, his comments seeming to roll off her shoulders. Of course it hurt, but she wasn't getting slushies in the face so it was a noticeable improvement.

"Hey, at least I admit I'm a dick," Puck argued, keying a few notes on the piano.

Rachel mused for a moment, her eyes running across Puck's figure. "The only reason we clash so badly is because we're both perceived to be "horrible". We're similar, you realize… I can't believe I just admitted it, but it makes sense," Rachel didn't say anything for a moment, her lips tightly shut. It was a rare moment where she thought carefully about what she had to say; but even then, her point was clumsy and her words were undeveloped. "You suck."

"You're a bitch, I'm a douche, but at least I'm hot. And have friends," he pointed out, settling into a comfortable melody.

"You mean the friends that made fun of you for being in Glee?" Rachel shifted her bag off the top of the piano and onto the floor, her eyes narrowed at Puck. "Or the ones you routinely sleep with? Just curious, it's an interesting topic."

"...Why are people so messed up by the fact I have a lot of sex with my best friend? We're still friends first," Puck argued.

"I was just clarifying. I'm not judging you. I already don't like you, so it'd be a wasted endeavor." For the most part, Rachel didn't care to continue the conversation. She waved her hands at him, as if expecting him to leave. Rather, he sat down at the piano and smirked at her.

"You judge everyone, don't lie," he dismissed, not appreciating her efforts to cover herself. She had no right to try and act the innocent party when she was capable of being a bully as much as he was. "And I, unlike everyone else, accept that you're an annoying pain in the ass bitch with issues and a weird nose," Puck pointed out. It was true. Puck knew that Rachel honestly had no friends outside of the Glee club. She was a charity case that was desperate for any semblance of attention that could be afforded to her.

Rachel looked reproachful with her wide eyes, an expression that made Puck feel nothing more than annoyance. "Well I judge you less than everyone else, alright?" She paused, a frown crossing her features, "accepting me would imply you're nice to me… Which you aren't," she snapped before had the chance to reply, "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Just because I laughed when the Cheerios flushed all your clothes down the toilet during Gym doesn't make me a bad person," Puck shrugged off, his hands still running through a song he wasn't quite sure of. He used to play piano as a kid, so this was almost second nature. He'd never let anyone in Glee know about it though, he wasn't going to get stuck in the background playing an instrument.

"Well it doesn't make you a good person either," Rachel scoffed, her arms tightly crossed. She seemed to be struggling with retorts, her mind fogging. She was a lot meaner to him than she meant to be; something she couldn't help. With Puck, a boy who bullied her for years, her one and only reaction was bitchy defense. "I regret helping you get un-slushied. And you say boobs weirdly!"

"Oh now you're picking on my accent? Classy," Puck half-grinned. His hands slamming a hideous note as he pushed himself up from the piano and yawned. "I got my hoodie. Have fun practicing on your own."

Rachel stared after him, glancing around the empty classroom, her fingers tugging across the surface of the piano's lid. She chewed her bottom lip, looking back to the empty doorframe. She shouldn't have told Jesse to leave her on her own; she shouldn't have gotten hyper-defensive with Puck; she had screwed both of the boys up and yet they were still willing to talk to her, to put up with her…

"Can you help me practice?" Rachel asked loudly down the hallway, hoping Puck would at least turn to acknowledge her.

"Last time I did that we ended up making out – and the other time I had to star in a shitty music video…" Puck yelled back, still walking.

"Please?" she said loudly enough for him to hear. She knew she had no reason to ask, and she knew he owed her nothing, but Puck was the closest thing she had to a friend sometimes. He consistently hated her, rather than flippantly (like the rest of the Glee club). His steps noticeably slowed and his shoulders rose - before dropping in defeat.

Puck stopped with his hands in his jeans' pockets as he glared back at Rachel. "If you tell anyone…" he trailed off, the threat working better when he didn't have to promise anything. He had no idea what it was about her… he knew she was annoying; she was a bitch; she would say nothing but hurtful comments because it's what she was best at. But there he was, playing piano and listening to the girl sing.

"Can we take a break? My ears are starting to -"

"Fool me once," Rachel chimed, smirking triumphantly toward the corner of the room. He didn't try to argue back – Rachel felt a little disappointed he had used a line on her once and tried to recycle it. Did he do it often? How much of what he said to her was the same stupid sob story, trying to get her softened up to him? Rachel felt her lip twitch before she continued with the upbeat tune.

Puck wondered briefly if the football team were wondering where he was. He didn't know if he should care or not, seeing as Rachel was being less annoying than she usually was (probably because she was busy singing, he supposed).

Glee club; it was escapism, and they both knew it.

**Thank you to my co-writer, puckyeah, who unknowingly wrote Puck's dialogue. I just made it describe-y. ****I'm pleased though! The fact this has gotten 600+ hits, 7 alerts and a review in one day is amazing to me! Oh. I'm also a St. Berry fan. Shh.**

**I do really appreciate reviews, guys! Feedback gets you more, faster! **


	3. Red Flag

**_Tina receives a part that was meant for Rachel. Puck is amused. Set post-Sectionals._**

**3.**

**Red Flag  
**

Rachel's cheeks were glowing red as the rest of the Glee members watched. No one wanted to interrupt the rampage that was Rachel; especially when she was being denied a lead that she was born to play. Puck heard something about Streisand, something about Funny Girl… He actually wasn't paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth.

Puck was mostly just fixated on her urgency. She was practically begging for the part.

Fill in a few blanks here and there, and Puck could happily just sit and smirk as she rambled. He watched her speak, sure, it was fun to watch her get flustered and his mind honestly could do wonders with just visual aids.

As her tirade came to an end, Puck shifted in his seat. He pretended to look offended as the others members fought back. Puck waited for an open moment, his eyes darting between Tina and Rachel.

"We could settle this the old fashioned way? Foxy boxing," he grinned, earning a few nods from Matt and Mike. Mr. Schuester looked annoyed by the suggestion, but Puck ignored it. He had another tangent for his brain whilst everyone verbally duke it out.

Oh shit, when did Santana's skirt get so fucking tiny? He watched her strut out of the room with Brittany in tow. Matt and Mike followed, along with Quinn and Finn. Really, it was only him and Rachel left by the time his brain caught up with everything. That sucked for him, as he was stuck in silence with a fuming Rachel. The girl was tiny, but she was fucking scary when she needed to be.

"What was that?" Puck finally questioned with a frown as he watched Artie wheel out behind Tina.

Rachel blinked, "What was what?"

"You being a **diva**? Hello, did you not hear your-fuckin'-self when you laid it into Mr. Schuester for giving Tina the lead?" Puck questioned with his shoulders sagging from sheer boredom. And yes, he was hypocritical; he hadn't listened to Rachel either. What he did know was that this right here?

This was a red flag to Rachel.

Rachel pouted, her eyes narrowing and widening at him in some stupid confusing display of emotions. _There's no point to storming out, not yet,_ she resolved.

His point? Totally irrelevant. It's stupid, truthfully. She knows it.

Rachel Berry wasn't a diva.

Divas were unprofessional. Attention-seeking. _Childish._

Rachel simpers at feeling of her stomach twitching. The word diva sparked a few additional insults. She _wasn't_ childish. She was a mature sixteen-year-old woman. She was a performer. She was a team player. She was – she was… cornered. "I'm not a diva," she winced, her arms tightly crossed.

"Right, 'cause crying in the middle of rehearsals because Tina – a girl who never gets a fuckin' break – _earns _a solo," Puck snorts, almost unable to believe what he is seeing. Rachel Berry pretending she wasn't a diva. Rachel. _Fucking._ Berry. The girl who was the epitome of a diva from the age of negative nine months, standing in front of him whilst trying to deny her starlet ways. (Sometimes he liked to use a few big words, so suck it. He was failing Math not English.) "Nah. Of course _you're_ not a diva."

"I didn't cry! And, I just don't feel that she's ready, alright? Vocally, she's just a bit weak and her confidence on stage is minimal at best. She'll make a total fool of herself in front of everyone and -"

"What do you care?" Puck questioned. And, judging by her expression, she didn't take his question sincerely. "No, seriously; you couldn't care less if someone else looks stupid. How does it affect you?"

"Well!" Rachel huffed, her hands tightly clenched by her sides, "I actually _do_ care if Tina makes an idiot out of herself! If I'm on stage with her I – oh," Rachel stopped, her cheeks tingling. She wasn't sure if all the yelling had made her feel that sensation or if she had actually started listening to herself.

Guilt? Probably.

"You don't have any faith in us, do you?" Puck pressed further, honestly dumbstruck by how stupid Berry was being. It was easier to berate her if he ignored she had a first name; that she had any identity at all, actually. "We're a team, yeah. How are we going to take Regionals if you're acting like a primadonna?"

"Of course I have faith in you – uhm. The team," she clarified.

"Then stop fuckin' acting like you're the top of the group. You can sing, yeah, but so could April."

Rachel's eyes flew wide, her teeth bared in anger. Puck wasn't sure he liked this expression. (It was kinda scary, and not in her usual crazy-hot way.) Maybe he'd made the mistake of comparing one girl to another; big deal. In the most Berry-like fashion she could muster in her anger, she stormed out of the room leaving a very content Puck.

Since joining Glee, Puck had become friends with people he never imagined. In particular, he'd found Tina's presence comforting. She was a girl he'd never think twice about sleeping with. (Because, yeah, he thought about it once but the girl could bite; shit, she could bite _hard._ And not in any kind of erotic way he could enjoy.) Puck grimaced, reminding himself to never let Tina near his forearm again whilst making sexual innuendo.

He finally decided that, no, hanging back in the choir room on a Friday afternoon wasn't what he wanted to do. He wasn't Berry.

Who, he noted as he walked to his car, hadn't gone far.

"I thought you stormed off?" Puck called out in amusement.

Rachel turned and looked at him with utter contempt.

Puck actually _flinched_. The girl was scary.

"What did I do?"

Rachel hitched up her bag (which made her skirt rise up just enough for him to smirk), "You implied that April was _better_ than me."

"Well, she let me touch her boobs."

Rachel, who was already angry, was just looking at him with utter contempt. "You slept with her?"

"Uh not what I said, but yeah, me and like… half the football team. Really old news, Berry. You didn't know?" Puck seemed amused. The angrier she got, the more amused _he_ got. It was a dangerous mix. Though, he could have sworn she looked – jealous? He laughed. "And you **care**?"

"She's – old! Exceedingly so! I'm surprised you didn't -" Rachel faded off, her lips pursed shut. She knew there was no point saying anything further, mostly because Puck was now convinced she had some undying, secret crush on her. Wasn't he mad at her still for being horrible to Tina?

"Look, not that I'm not having loads of fun or anything," he paused, "but I have shit to do. I'm sure you don't, but y'know. I have friends, you don't, blah, blah, blah," Puck examined his wrist for a moment (wishing he actually had a watch. He was pretty sure Santana stole it.)

Rachel resumed her contemptuous expression, her arms crossed. "Of course, don't let me keep you," she tried not to sigh, but it passed her lips despite her strain. She had things to do – she did! Things like upload her daily MySpace video. And other things of importance, she assured herself.

"Later Berry," he waved, turning on his heel toward the school doors.

"Punk."

He smiled a little more. She couldn't even muster another insult. It was kind of pathetic, the poor thing. (Not that he actually cared how she felt. It was just fun to patronize her in his head.)

Though he **did** kind of care about how Tina felt (they _were_ sort of friends – in a boring, 'lets go get coffee' kind of way), he mostly just enjoyed seeing Rachel with a 'contemptuous scowl'. Those were her word, not his. The way her lips curled up, the subtle kink in her eyebrow and how she'd cross her arms. She was pretty flat, but what she did have was only helped by her _angry_ stance. It was about as animalistic as she ever got, especially if you told her she sucked at practise.

Puck just knew it was trying to hide her clear need to fuck him.

He didn't blame her, though.

He _is_ pretty much the stud of the school. And he knew if she could hear his thoughts, her expression would be so much more lethal than the watery attempts at contempt. His smile was basically ear to ear now, his eyes averted to the ground.

_She was just hot when she was mad, _he admitted to himself. He was a dude; he could think chicks were hot without actually liking them. Go fucking figure. He was about to go screw Santana anyway.

And he definitely didn't think of Rachel Berry whilst getting some heated, angry sex from Santana that night. He didn't pretend it was her moaning his name, and he definitely didn't slip up and called Santana something else.

That'd just be fucked up, right?

Right.

* * *

**AN: Oh yes. Review - you know you want to!**


	4. Don't Be Cruel

_**Set post-Bad Reputation.**_

**4.**

**Don't Be Cruel**

_Be glad I didn't drunk dial you. ;) That is, I went out to a "party" last night. Yes, you read right. – R_

Puck read the message several times through, distracted by the fact that Rachel Berry had felt the need to text this message to him in the first place. "What the hell," he muttered, but even that didn't properly express the weirdness of the situation. With a shake of his head, he replied without much care for proper grammar.

_i'm shocked. you have friends?_

Santana cooed from under the sheets on his bed, her head poking out. "The fuck? Why are you up?"

"Message from Matt," he lied, not sure why he didn't just say Rachel was texting him. It was probably because the reality of the situation hadn't actually hit him yet. His phone buzzed again, a little too soon for his liking. Had she been waiting for him to reply?

Crazy Berry was really crazy, he had to admit.

_Well, Jesse invited me along... But yes, I have friends. – R_

Puck simply shook his head, running a hand over his newly-shaved head. _For real, Rachel? Don't you have any friends of your own?_ he thought to himself. In truth, he'd seen her talking to people at school but never for more than a few weeks at a time. The girl couldn't hold onto friends.

_no, he has friends, you have a boyfriend. that makes you a hanger on_

Puck flopped backwards, collecting Santana up onto his chest with a smile. She smelled pretty amazing, even post-sex. No, wait, scratch that; **especially**__post sex. He kissed at the shell of her ear for a moment, feeling suddenly appreciative of her; she was probably the best friend a guy could ever have. They'd known each other since they were about 6, and Puck couldn't imagine life without her.

So what they weren't dating? It didn't stop him from screwing her _at least_ four times a week. He just had no right to punch out dudes who checked her out unless she asked. That was probably the only difference, actually.

His phone vibrated on his bedside table once more, causing him to groan. Yes, he could just ignore her, but he didn't want to let her feel like she had the last word in the situation. That was never cool.

_I still went out to a party. So... Shut up. 3 I'm in a fabulous mood for once, let me be happy! – R_

Did she just tell him to shut up? Hell no.

_aren't you always irritatingly perky?_

"Can you stop sexting Matt for like, two seconds?" Santana growled, tossing the phone aside and flipping over so she was straddling his lap.

Yes, he could stop definitely stop for the sexy Latina babe that was now stroking her hand down his front. His hands settled on her hips, hugging the curve of her waist tightly. There was a moment or two of hips shifting and remnants of clothes being discarded before they were going for round two.

It wasn't until about half an hour later he actually remembered he had a message. The annoying blinking light from his phone was kind of an obvious indication – it was just Berry. Though, knowing her she was probably desperately wondering what was taking him so long to reply.

And now that Santana was downstairs making pancakes, he could probably have a couple of moments. He picked up the phone and read:

_No, sometimes I have my quiet, brooding moments where I contemplate the artistic struggle I endure daily... :)_

Puck actually laughed out loud at that. Fuck, what was this girl on? She was always trying to make herself seem like some dramatic Broadway star. In reality, Rachel Berry was a nobody. And, if he was being honest, the sooner she got over herself, the sooner he'd actually bother trying to get to know her. But seeing as she was so tightly wound on the idea of running off to New York, there was no being pleasant with her.

To him, having dreams was sweet or whatever, but not if you act like a bitch to everyone.

_...PMS?_

He could barely stomach the thought of her actually being a chick with chick issues, so that message was harder to send than he liked to admit. Girl issues _creeped_ him out so fucking badly.

Rather than vibrate once, his phone kept going this time. He checked the screen and Berry had actually called him. Why did he answer? He wouldn't even be able to tell you.

"Sup?"

"I was getting sick of texting," Rachel pointed out quickly, as if sensing his confusion.

"Whatever."

Rachel chuckled, not sensing that his annoyance was actually real. "And as for your response? Ha ha. No not necessarily girl issues!" Puck cringed. "Thanks for acknowledging I'm a woman for once."

Puck rolled his eyes, searching his room for some clean clothes. What the fuck ever. He could smell pancakes wafting upstairs, and he knew there was a Latina minx behind it. "No, it's Santana that's a man. You're just weird," he explained, pinching the phone between his shoulder and eat as he pulled on a pair of boxers.

He was half-tempted to tell her he was naked, just to scare her. But, somehow he felt that would be too mean; teasing her with something she'd never get? He'd never be that mean to her. Not intentionally, anyway.

"Well thank you! I'll take that as your half-not-really-a-compliment compliment for the day," Rachel giggled. She actually _giggled_. It sounded like one of those tacky Disney princess laughs too. He bet that she practiced that as much as she practiced singing.

"I complimented you? I hate myself," he smirked, doing up the fly of his jeans. Shirts were overrated anyway.

"... Ugh. I don't see why you have to be so continually cruel to me! Especially when I'm trying to be nice."

_Wow, where did that come from?_ Puck blinked, his face contorting into a confused frown. "This is you being nice?"

"I was trying, yes… But it's hard when you make comments. Really, Noah!" Rachel actually sounded a little hurt, and Puck wasn't sure if it was actually his fault. He hadn't been any more or less cruel than usual. Actually, since he wasn't just hanging up on her, he thought he was being pretty nice. Well for him, anyway. And he called Santana a fat whore almost daily, and he loved her a lot, it was just a matter of adjusting to Puck-love.

"…Why?"

"Why am I trying to be nice? Or why do you make stupid comments?"

_God, she was a bitch. Seriously._

"Why are you trying to be nice?" he half-sighed, running a hand down his face. "I _know_ why I make "stupid" comments."

"It doesn't matter," Rachel blurted out quite quickly, only confirming that it did matter. How did this girl manage to be so talented and crazy at the same time? He would never fucking know.

"It matters. Can you just hurry up and tell me?" Puck saw Santana at the door, wearing only an apron and her underwear. Why the hell was he on the phone? Oh right, Crazy Chick. He'd give her another few minutes then just tell her to go make out with Jacob or something.

"Because you're nice to Mercedes, Tina and every other girl in the group. It ruins group dynamic for us to be hateful."

"I was nice to Mercedes because I wanted something," he pointed out, scratching his shoulder for a moment.

"You were nice enough to help me with my film project, too, but I suppose that was for "something". Fine, I give up." Rachel actually sounded defeated. Puck wasn't sure what to say, his eyes following Santana as she skipped down the stairs. His sister and mother were out, so he had the house to himself.

Why was he talking to Berry then?

"Are you jealous?" he finally asked, grinning to himself.

"Jealous? Rachel Berry does not get jealous! What a totally false assumption, Puck." Her voice went up an octave, her usually shrieky, angry voice coming out. He could picture her stomping her foot, pouting her lips and trying to glare even though she was checking out his guns. It was kind of funny when she tried to be angry at him.

"You sound it."

"... I do not! Look, I'm going to go out to the mall now, so I shall speak to you later... Maybe.

." Rachel hissed under her breath.

"You're so _hilariously_ jealous, Rachel."

The phone started omitting a dial tone, his lips parting into a clearly triumphant smirk. Berry was kind of amusing when she got all huffy and angry. Not in a cute way… He just liked to make her drop the demeanor of sugar-and-spice whenever he could. It was his specialty to get her all riled up.

"Done having phone sex with _Matt_?" Santana asked, sitting on the counter in the kitchen, her eyes heavy lidded in his direction.

"I can't help it, Matt needed to tell me something," Puck simply shrugged, walking over to her and pressing a few kisses down her throat.

"I know that was Manhands, Puck," Santana said with a grin, her arms resting on his shoulders, her eyebrow raised the slightest. "Since when do you two have fights over the phone?"

"Shut the fuck up." Puck looked blankly at Santana, his thumb massaging her hipbone.

"You are so going after Rachel's berry," she cackled, pushing him away. Santana hummed as she sat down at the breakfast table, piling several pancakes onto her plate. He joined her quickly, stocking up on as many pancakes as he could fit onto his large dinner sized plate.

He didn't bother to deny the claim.

Because, hell, even being able to say that would make him smirk. And hey, she was crazy most of the time, so he assumed that she'd probably be pretty fun between the sheets. His mind wandered rather quickly to more illicit images, but it wasn't worth thinking about.

Apparently she'd slept with Jesse anyway? That's what Finn had said. Puck began cutting his pancakes with a little more anger than one would usually see directed at breakfast.


End file.
